


when i watch the world burn (all i think about is you)

by lovelyleias



Category: Alien Series, Alien: Isolation (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Christopher Samuels Lives, Couch Sex, F/M, First Time, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Canon, Robot/Human Relationships, amanda's choice vocabulary is a bad influence on android programming, ft. loads of exposition so i can (kind of) justify how everything works, oh my god so awkward help him, samuels is an awkward virgin, you can pry my 'samuels is overdramatic' headcanon from my cold dead hands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2020-05-20 08:24:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19372933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovelyleias/pseuds/lovelyleias
Summary: Samuels is pretty sure life is playing a joke on him, but he's not quite sure who's laughing. Maybe Amanda Ripley.DefinitelyAmanda Ripley.





	when i watch the world burn (all i think about is you)

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, this is porn. Enjoy!

Christopher Samuels was sick of being fucked with. 

Really, it was getting ridiculous. He, like all androids, had been created to be the anti-human: flawless, tireless, predictable. True, he had spent the first six years of his life in this way, but in his seventh year he had been stranded on a sorry excuse of a space station, hunted by a monster, forced to cut his way through a near army of hunks of metal nowhere near passing the Turing Test, had been half-fried while trying to find answers, and then had jettisoned himself alongside Amanda Ripley in the desperate hope of maybe, _just maybe_ having a chance to survive.

“Huh,” he absently heard Amanda say. “This is new.”

It took every ounce of strength he had not to say something rude in return. He wasn’t sure exactly what he would say—most of the mean phrases he had learned came from things he had heard Amanda say to or about other people and were perhaps inappropriate for their current situation. But, if he were to quote her, he would at the very least ask _what the actual fuck?_

He blamed his _situation_ on what had happened to him while trying to interface with APOLLO. Or possibly he blamed Amanda. He did a brief internal scan and decided that there was a 50/50 chance that either could be responsible. A second scan informed him that the scan he had just performed was not in any way legitimate, and politely suggested that he was just projecting and maybe also being a bit of a dick. A third scan told him that neither of these were real scans, just pieces of internal monologue—another side effect of the semi-successful interfacing—and his conclusion was that he was, possibly, being a bit of a pouting ass.

Sometimes he missed the days where he was a little less sentient. Mostly in moments like this one. 

After he had nearly been destroyed on Sevastopol, sentience had crept upon him like a slow fever, and sometimes it was just as unpleasant. One morning he had gone shopping alone and had asked the cashier for the brand of cigarettes he knew Amanda preferred. The woman had called out to her co-worker, saying that _it_ was looking for Clear Blue. When the pack was handed to him, he paid for all his items with a quick thanks. He left the shop and hurried for the transit car. When he sat down he set his bags on the seat beside him and curled forward, hugging his knees. Something burned in his core, something awful that made him feel sick and shaky. _Shame_ , he realized later. When he arrived at their apartment he handed Ripley her cigarettes without telling her anything except that maybe she should cut down, to which she responded with the eyeroll he knew he would receive. 

Stubbing his toe on the crooked leg of the kitchen table hadn’t hurt until it one day _did_ , not the same dull pain that would have shot up his leg had he been human, but a noticeable _something_ that caused him to shout an obscene word he had picked up from Amanda Ripley and made red lights flash in his optical lenses. 

But there were good things that came with sentience. Like the slice of lemon that he had been tricked into biting into, which was very rude at the time, thank you very much, when Amanda knew exactly what was changing within him. He knew he couldn’t quite taste it the way a human would, but he experienced the bitterness enough to know that she’d been messing with him and had playfully thrown the peel at her as she laughed. Still, it had been strange and lovely to slowly learn to experience his senses in ways he could not before. 

And, of course, there was Amanda Ripley. He had liked her from the moment he’d met her. Although her initial reaction to him was less than kind, he could see the quiet strength in the way she held herself, in the pain in her eyes that she fought to hide. He had been capable of liking her—his social programming was rather advanced and allowed him to decide which humans he wished to become friends with, and which he disliked—Waits had quickly found himself on the opposite side of this spectrum. 

The first year after Sevastopol had been strange. Amanda had wanted to get away as far away from the Company’s reach as possible, and so they had ended up calling a small station owned by a corporation called Sweetgrass. They had both been able to find work quickly, and a small two-bedroom apartment. During the day he would work and explore the new ways in which sentience had claimed him. At night he would sit up in his bed and listen to Amanda thrash in her bed, haunted by the sounds of hissing and the scent of blood in her dreams. One night, he had been awoken from low-power mode by her screams. Without thinking, he had run to her room and thrown open the door. Amanda had been sitting up in bed with the light on, her face white as the moon and tracked with tears. He had sat silently beside her as she cried, and when she had finished he turned off the light and crawled into bed with her. Without a word, she reached for his hand and gripped it tightly. As she drifted back to sleep, Samuels finally admitted to himself that what he felt for her went far, far beyond the limits of his programming. After that, they had spent months exchanging looks and lingering touches that lasted too long. Samuels had spent endless nights contemplating what they meant. Amanda was human, it was a statistical improbability that she would possess feelings for him that went beyond friendship. And yet, a year and a half after they had first met, she had kissed him. It had been six months since that first kiss, six months since his world had been turned upside down once again.

All this to say, there he sat at one o’clock in the morning, straddled by his girlfriend with one hand up her shirt, and a very obvious erection straining against his pants.

“Christopher?” Amanda asked, almost hesitantly. “Um, are you okay? Not going to short circuit or anything?”

He realized it had been exactly twenty-two seconds since she had first spoken to him and looked at her with panic surely written all over his face. He pulled his hand away and she stared at him, clearly surprised and _very_ amused. 

“This is new,” she said again. She slowly rolled her hips against him, and he nearly choked, as a feeling of _something_ shot up his groin. 

She was right—he had always assumed that his genitals were simply a strange aesthetic choice made by his developers. A month after their relationship had begun, they had been engaged in a particularly heated kissing session. Amanda had been moaning and squirming underneath him and had snaked a hand down between them, touching herself as they kissed. He had watched in near-awe as she brought herself to orgasm, and a few days later when she began to do it again, he asked her softly if he could replace her hand with his own. She’d agreed enthusiastically, and as she soon came undone around his fingers, his only regret was that he couldn’t join her in that high. 

Which made this an _interesting_ development. 

With a delighted smile, Amanda reached down and palmed the bulge between his legs. Christopher hissed as a jolt of pleasure rocketed upwards. Amanda gasped, surprised. 

“You felt that? I mean,” she clarified, “it felt good?”

Samuels looked at the ceiling, unable to meet her eyes. “Yes,” he said through gritted teeth.

She leaned over and kissed him softly, running her hands through his hair. “Don’t be embarrassed. Isn’t this what you wanted?” 

She wasn’t wrong. He sighed, and finally looked her in the eyes. “It’s just…unexpected.”

“Yeah,” her eyes flickered down at his pants and back up to his face. She tilted her head, as if in thought. “Do you want to try it out?”

“What?”

“I mean, it seems like your dick works now, do you want to see if you can get off?”

Why did she always have to be so blunt? If he could blush, he would have. Amanda was still straddling his lap, looking down at him. Her eyes were dark with desire, but her smile was open and loving. He could feel her weight and her heat and his cock throbbed. “God, yes,” he breathed. 

Amanda laughed and kissed him, open-mouthed. He slid his tongue into her mouth and when she moaned it seemed to vibrate through his whole body. Amanda pulled back and drew off her shirt and bra. His eyes drank in her body—she was beautiful. She was asymmetrical and imperfect, like all humans, and her skin was scarred in some places from the horrors they had seen together, but she was so beautiful. When she returned to his lips, he palmed her breasts with one hand, and she smiled into his mouth. He knew she liked to be touched there, and he liked the feeling of them, heavy and soft. With his free hand he pulled down the zipper of her pants and touched her over her underwear. Through the fabric he could feel that she was already wet, but it wasn’t enough. He pushed the underwear to the side and slid two fingers into her folds and up to her clitoris. He rubbed it gently as she breathed deeply, and then drew his hand away. She whined at the lack of contact, but he slid his hand lower, before pushing a finger inside of her.

“Fuck,” she hissed, the _k_ skidding harshly off her tongue. 

Encouraged by this, he added a second finger. Amanda swore again and kissed him harder, gripping him tightly by his hair as she rode his hand. Christopher groaned. He was so hard it almost hurt. How did humans with penises deal with this? Was it something he would have to become accustomed to? He felt like his head was spinning. As distracted as he was, he tried to focus on Amanda. 

She was close, she’d stopped kissing him; her eyes were closed and her breath came out in rapid pants. He continued to pump into her with his fingers, and pressed his thumb to her clitoris, rubbing it in gentle circles. 

“Yes,” she breathed, her eyes still closed. “Yes, that’s perfect, that’s, _oh_ —”

Ripley’s words stuttered away and she came suddenly, still moving against him to prolong her orgasm. When her eyes fluttered open her cheeks were flushed and a bead of sweat had collected at her brow. He withdrew his hand and wiped it on his pants as she kissed the corner of his mouth. 

She laughed as she drew back. “You look frustrated. Can I touch you?”

Christopher was sure he would die if she didn’t. “Is it supposed to feel like this?” he asked before he could stop himself. 

She laughed again, and he frowned. He was tired of being the butt of the joke. 

“Don’t be mad,” she told him. “You’re very cute, don’t worry. And yes, it is. You need release. Let me help you.”

He lifted his hips and allowed her to pull his pants off, followed by his shirt. He felt a little stupid in just his underwear and socks, and with that fucking erection, but Amanda was looking at him as if she was starving and he was a banquet. She rubbed him again and he bucked into her hand involuntarily. 

“Do that again,” he said quietly. “Please.”

She hummed in acknowledgment, but instead slid her hand underneath the waistband of his underwear and pulled it down his legs, tossing it to the side with the rest of their clothing. She looked at him slyly, and he was about to ask what she planned on doing when she wrapped her hand around his cock and began to pump. Samuels threw his head back so hard that it smacked against the wall, and a sound came out of his lips that he’d never heard himself make before. 

“Alright?” Amanda looked concerned as he raised his head. 

He took a deep, shuddering breath. It was an unnecessary action, but it felt like it grounded him. “Yes, please don’t stop.”

She bit her lip, clearly trying to hide her laughter, and moved her hand up and down his length in a maddening slow motion. His cock twitched and he grasped at the couch cushions. 

“Amanda—” why was talking suddenly so difficult? His head felt scrambled. “I—”

“What do you need?” Her eyes still sparkled, but the laughter was gone, replaced with infinite tenderness. 

He swallowed—again, irrational and unnecessary, was he malfunctioning? —and tried to bury his embarrassment as he carefully chose his words. But it seemed as if every part of him had dislocated, except for his groin.

“I want, um… I would like to be inside you.”

So much for tact.

To his surprise, Amanda did not laugh at him. Instead, she let him go and kissed him hard. “I love you,” she said simply, when she pulled away.

Christopher placed a hand on her flushed cheek. “I love you, too.”

Amanda gripped the back of the couch for support and slowly lowered herself onto him. As soon as his cock began to slide inside of her, Christopher’s optical lenses went wild with overstimulation warnings that he quickly blinked away. His mouth opened of its own accord and he let out a strangled choking sound. Amanda was warm and soft and, god, so wet. 

“Good?” Amanda asked, placing steadying hands on his shoulders. 

Samuels waited until the last of the warning messages faded away. “Yes,” he said softly. “I’m just being reminded that I was not built for this.”

“We can stop,” Ripley said seriously, moving as if she meant to lift herself off of him. 

“No!” Christopher said sharply, and she raised her eyebrows. He felt like he’d die if he didn’t find some sort of release. “No, please, I want this. I want…you.”

Amanda nodded slowly and rolled her hips against him. God, if it turned out that he couldn’t actually orgasm he would lose his mind. Encouraged, Amanda began to move faster. She rubbed her hands against his chest and leaned over to kiss him. Hungrily, he pulled her closer and she laughed, delighted by his boldness. The touch of her lips, the feeling of her hands on his chest, and the way she moved with him inside her encompassed him wholly. Slowly, he began to move against her, pacing himself so that when her motions pulled her backwards he drove himself further into her. Until then, Ripley had been in full control, but Christopher knew that she was still sensitive from the orgasm she’d had only minutes before, and to his satisfaction his movements were affecting her. 

As if she’d read his mind, Amanda leaned down, her breath hot in his ear. “You’re so good,” she said with a strained voice. He responded by pulling her back into a deep kiss. Their angle changed as he drew her closer, and she moaned into his mouth. She pulled away to breathe, and he found himself captivated by the way her breasts bounced as she moved. Almost thoughtlessly, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to one, mouthing against her soft skin. At that, Amanda cried out, a sound that went straight to his dick. She was incredibly wet, and the sound they created together each time he pushed in and out of her was obscene. The man he had been fifteen minutes before might have been horrified, but Samuels was half-dazed with pleasure. 

“Hey, hey,” Amanda said breathlessly, “Up here, handsome.” 

Christopher pulled his mouth away from her breast and chuckled, lifting his lips back to her own. As he grew more comfortable, he began to thrust harder. He knew Amanda liked when he moved his fingers roughly within her, and he suspected this would be similarly enjoyable to her. As he expected, Amanda broke away from the kiss, lost in the feeling for a moment.

“Fuck,” she gasped. “Oh god. Christopher, yes, fuck me like that.” She increased her pace, too, and he felt himself press his fingernails into her back. He reached between them and rubbed her swollen clit again. He felt as she began to squeeze hard against him as she came with a cry, rutting against him. He continued to pump into her, allowing her to ride through her orgasm, and she collapsed against him, sinking her teeth into his collarbone as another orgasm tore through her. 

Amanda was relentless, though, and didn’t stop fucking him even as she reached her climax. Release came upon Christopher swiftly and suddenly. The room disappeared, the world vanished. It was just him and Amanda, still in the last moments of her orgasm. Nothing mattered, it was all dust, all he saw was her, her, her. Euphoria seemed to explode from his groin and travel down to his toes and up to his head. His system was overheated by 27% and his vision was clouded with error warnings, but this time he did not blink them away. 

When his vision cleared and his processor seemed to reconnect, the first thing he saw was Amanda Ripley looking at him with a shit-eating grin. 

“Congratulations,” she said dryly, bold words for someone whose flushed chest moved as she breathed heavily, still fighting to catch her breath. 

He stared at her, mouth agape. “That was… it was…”

“Good? Fun? Hot?”

“I don’t think I could find the words to describe it. But certainly not any of those.”

Amanda laughed, and this time he didn’t say anything about it. He still felt far away, and as if the only real thing in the world was the weight of her body on top of him. But even that was lost, too, as she pulled herself off of him. There would be little clean up required, he thought absently, for he was not capable of ejaculation. Amanda sat beside him, still completely naked, and rested her sweaty head upon his shoulder. 

“Come back to me,” he heard her say, and he shook his head as if to clear it. “Here’s an easy one—did you like it?”

He reached for her hand and the touch seemed to pull him back down. “Yes. It was indescribable,” he insisted. “But it was perfect. You’re perfect. I love you.” He was aware that he was babbling, but Amanda only laughed and snuggled closer to him. He slung an arm around his shoulders. 

“Are you tired?” he asked.

“Mmm, a little, it’s late,” she sounded so satiated, he thought fondly. It was very sweet. “But I need to shower first.”

She rose to her feet, and he tried not to mourn the loss of contact. It hit him suddenly, that this was the rest of their lives. This intimacy, this love, it wouldn’t end just because the moment was over. He’d always had trouble looking forward, always stuck in the moment, or looking at his past. But perhaps it was time to start thinking about all the good that was still to come. Amanda, who for years had only looked backwards was finally beginning to think about the future. He could too. He looked over at her, she had begun to gather their scattered clothes to put in the laundry basket. It was a strikingly domestic action, except for the fact that she was entirely nude, and if Samuels had a heart, he knew it would feel very full. 

“Amanda,” he said suddenly, conscious of the emotion weighing down his voice. 

She looked up at him as she picked up her bra, her eyes full of questions. 

“I mean it, truly,” he told her quietly. “I love you very much. And I know that I always will.”

She looked at him for a long moment, eyes searching, as if peering right inside of him. Perhaps it was the low lighting, but her eyes seemed to glint as if wet. “I know,” she said after a long moment. “I will, too. You don’t have to worry about that. I really hope you don’t.”

She let the clothes fall to the floor and reached out her hand. He took it and rose to his feet, gripping her like a lifeline, and letting her lead him towards the shower. 

Perhaps he was right, and life had it out for him. But there was good alongside the bad, and he wouldn’t trade it for anything.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, I hope you liked it! I've been writing these two since 2016, I can't believe I haven't written something like this yet. _Please_ let me know your thoughts! You can find me at chryseis.tumblr.com.


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